


Bedtime Story

by doodledinmypants



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Orpheus and Eurydice, adapted Greek myth, bedtime story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-07
Updated: 2013-09-07
Packaged: 2017-12-25 21:21:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doodledinmypants/pseuds/doodledinmypants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames tells the Cobb children a bedtime story. It's oddly familiar...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bedtime Story

“Once upon a time—“ Eames began, but was interrupted immediately.

“Uncle Eames,” Phillipa Cobb protested, her voice nasal and stuffy, “I'm nine. I'm too old for fairy tales.” 

“Be quiet, Philly, I wanna hear the story!” complained James, who, at age six and a half, was still firmly within the “young enough to enjoy fairy tales” stage. 

“Now, now,” Eames said calmly, “this isn't a fairy tale. It's a true story.” 

Phillipa perked up with interest at that. “A true story? Is it about you and Arthur?” 

Eames smiled. “Yes, and your parents, duckling. Do you still want me to stop?”

Frowning slightly, Phillipa shook her head. “Dad doesn't tell a lot of stories about Mommy. I don't remember much about her anymore, either.”

“You look a lot like her,” Eames assured her, patting her feverishly hot cheek gently. It was true. Phillipa had the same dark, curling hair as her mother, the same elegant lines to her face, still a bit chubby with baby fat but showing a hint of the future woman she was to become. Her eyes were her father's, though. Serious yet dreamy, a cool hazel gray. Her brother favored their father more with his fair, wispy hair and square jaw, but had received his mother's eyes: a deep and haunting shade of blue. They were both gorgeous children. Eames wasn't a family man himself, but he'd always had a soft spot for children, and Dom Cobb's kids had quickly adopted him as their “Uncle Eames”. Dom found it charming, despite Arthur's insistence that Eames would be a bad influence on them. Eames couldn't bring himself to disagree with Arthur, however untrue it may have been. “She was a lovely woman. As lovely as... as a woodland nymph from a Greek tragedy.”

Phillipa accepted this and settled back into bed. James curled up in the chair on Eames' lap, gazing thoughtfully at the framed photograph of Mallorie Cobb on Phillipa's bedside table. Phillipa was sick with the flu, and Dom was off on a consulting job for Saito. He'd called Eames in to watch over the children for a few days to ease the burden on their grandparents, who had come down with the same illness. Eames had agreed readily, and since Arthur happened to be in the room with him when he got the call, Arthur had tagged along as well. The former point man's excuse was along the lines of “if you're babysitting them, who's babysitting you?” but Eames knew better. Arthur was just as fond of the children as he was.

“If it's not a fairy tale, why are you starting it with 'Once upon a time'?” Phillipa asked, far too suspicious for a nine-year-old. Losing her mother at such a young age, and having her father disappear for so long had left her with an overdeveloped sense of cynicism. 

“Because it's a true story, but true stories are often very boring,” Eames explained patiently, “so I'm going to tell it in a more interesting way. It doesn't make it any less true.”

Phillipa still looked skeptical, but she looked as though she were at least willing to give the forger the benefit of the doubt. “All right.”

Eames inclined his head graciously. “Good. Once upon a time, there was an architect—“

“That's Daddy!” piped James excitedly.

“Yes,” Eames agreed, taking the interruption in stride. “An architect named Cobb. He fell in love with the most beautiful nymph in the forest, an exquisite creature with dark hair and eyes and a mysterious smile. Her name was Mal.”

“Mommy,” sighed Phillipa, a little dreamily. 

Eames nodded and continued without missing a beat. “The two were madly in love. So much so, that when Mal passed away very suddenly, leaving Cobb and their two children alone in the world, Cobb was inconsolable. He fell into a deep despair and withdrew from all of humanity. He abandoned his architecture, even his children, and the gods wept for the loss. The architect's sorrow was so great that it tore the world asunder, and wolves sprang from the cracks, chasing Cobb to the ends of the earth. There, Cobb drew up a labyrinth to keep the wolves out. Over time, Cobb became trapped in his own labyrinth, but it was no ordinary labyrinth, for it was grown out of his grief and the walls were made of poisonous thorns that kept everybody out. It also kept his heart closed away inside.”

“This is a sad story,” Phillipa pronounced, frowning. 

“Shhh!” hissed James, obviously enraptured. He idolized Eames and hung on every word when the forger told them stories.

Eames smiled a little, but his eyes were sad. “It is a sad story, but as I said, it's true. And it has a happy ending.”

The children quieted and waited for him to continue. He obliged. “Cobb had one constant companion beside his sorrow. A guardian angel named Arturiel.”

This time, the interruption came from the doorway. “Is that supposed to be me?” asked Arthur, leaning on the door frame with his arms crossed. He looked thoroughly unimpressed. “You're mixing up your mythologies, Mister Eames.”

“Would you like to tell the story?” Eames shot back archly, though there was no real heat in his voice. Arthur's mouth twisted into a smirk, but he shook his head. “Then I would kindly remind the peanut gallery to cut the chatter.” Arthur scowled, Phillipa disguised her laugh with a cough, and James outright giggled.

“Now, as I was saying. Arturiel was a guardian angel, the best of his kind. He guided Cobb away from the thorns that threatened to scratch him, but he could not lead Cobb out of the labyrinth. It seemed a hopeless cause, but one day, a very powerful god appeared. He was called Saito, lord of Dreams.” 

Arthur snorted, but Eames looked at him sharply and the point man offered no further criticism, holding up his hands in surrender. He entered the room then and sat at the end of Phillipa's bed, patting her leg through the covers and handing her a glass of water. She thanked him quietly, but never took her eyes off of Eames.

“Saito had an offer for Cobb. He could let Cobb out of the labyrinth, return him to his children, and make certain that Mal was resting in the Elysian Fields—that's the pleasant part of the Underworld, you see—if Cobb would help him gain control of the Underworld from the resident god there. We'll call him... Bob.”

“Bob?!” Arthur couldn't help himself. He burst into a choking fit of laughter. Eames gave him a coolly annoyed glare.

“I can't very well give away his real name, now can I?” he said crossly.

“Of course not,” Arthur snickered. “Bob it is. Go on.”

The children looked bemused by Arthur's outburst, but chimed in with “Yeah, go on!” once the point man had settled back down. 

Eames sighed. “Right. Well, Bob, the lord of the Underworld—“ he stared hard at Arthur, daring him to interrupt again, but Arthur simply mimed locking his lip and throwing away the key, “—was even more powerful than Saito, but he'd inherited the position from his father, and wasn't very experienced at the job. Due to his naivete, it wouldn't be impossible to sneak into the Underworld and overthrow him, with Saito's help. But Cobb was a mere mortal, and he needed more help, for Saito's aid would be limited. 

“He returned to the deep woods where Mal had been born, and there he found a cave. Within that cave was an oracle named Ariadne. She navigated the labyrinth of grief inside him so swiftly, that Cobb knew he'd found his guide. For she had found his heart, and knew what pained him, and she wanted to help him escape the thorns and the wolves.”

Eames paused for effect, and found that even Arthur was listening intently, drawing his feet up to sit cross-legged on the pale lavender coverlet of Phillipa's bed. He allowed himself a small, triumphant smile. “Cobb then turned to his guardian angel and asked him to help summon up Eames, the Trickster, a shapeshifting creature of great power.

“'Eames may be able to help you enter the Underworld,' said Arturiel with great reluctance, 'but he is dangerous. Surely there is another that could aid you.'

“'Perhaps,' said Cobb, 'but I need a shapeshifter, and Eames is the best.' 

“And so, Arturiel told Cobb where he could find the Trickster, in a blazing hot land far to the south. Cobb traveled there alone, for that was the only way to gain the Trickster's favor. The thorns closed in around his heart without Arturiel's presence, but he found the Trickster at last and offered him great riches in exchange for his help. The Trickster agreed, but the wolves had caught up to Cobb, and they were forced to flee. Saito rescued them in his chariot made of the darkest nighttime sky, and they flew away to safety. 

“The Trickster told them of a great alchemist who could brew a potion that would allow them to enter the Underworld safely, and so they went to see him. The alchemist was called Yusuf, and he was a very skilled potion maker. He had potions that could do just about anything—including gain a mortal entry to the Underworld without having to die first. He gave Cobb the potion, but asked to come along on the journey for a share of the riches in return, and so Cobb agreed.

“The Oracle, the Alchemist, the Trickster, the Guardian Angel, and the Lord of Dreams were all on the Architect's side now, and it was time to take on the Lord of the Underworld.

“There were three main levels to the Underworld. They needed to trick Bob into giving up his power, and so the Trickster set to work, taking the guise of a trusted friend to plant the seeds of doubt into Bob's heart. While he was busy, Arturiel and Cobb, led by Ariadne, ventured deeper within the Underworld. The first level was full of rain, and the wolves were hot on their heels. The second level was a strange place, where up was down and people flew instead of walked, and still the wolves came. Finally, they came to the third level of the Underworld, a cold, vast wasteland of snow and ice. 

“The wolves here were very close now, and Cobb despaired of ever finding his wife. But when he looked upon the faces of the wolves, he was shocked to find that one of them had Mal's eyes. His sorrow and grief had trapped her in the form of a shade, and she was forced to hound him relentlessly.”

Eames' voice had grown quiet, and the children were utterly transfixed, barely breathing. Even Arthur's expression had lost all traces of mockery and skepticism, replaced instead by a familiar, faded pain. 

“Mal betrayed them all. She dragged Bob into the deepest reaches of the Underworld, into a place called Limbo, from which no mortal soul had ever returned. To follow her was suicide, but Cobb would not abandon his agreement with the Lord of Dreams... nor would he abandon his love for Mal. He would save her, even if it meant losing himself in the process. Even if it meant trapping all of his companions in Limbo as well. 

“The Lord of Dreams had been wounded, weakened, and had already fallen into Limbo. Cobb had to rescue him as well. While Arturiel and Yusuf held the wolves at bay, Ariadne and Cobb dove into Limbo. There, Ariadne found Bob and brought him back to the Underworld proper, leaving Cobb to find Saito and confront Mal. He found the wolf with his wife's eyes, and he fought her, killing her in the process. But in doing so, he set her soul free, and Mal went on to rest in the Elysian Fields at last.

“Cobb wandered through Limbo alone, until one day he washed up on the shore of a beach. There, he found the Lord of Dreams, withered into an old man who had forgotten his purpose. Cobb reminded him of their promise, and they returned together, rising up from Limbo, rising up through the Underworld to rejoin their friends, and finally coming out into the light again.”

James was fast asleep in Eames' lap, and though Phillipa was fading fast, she kept her eyes stubbornly open. “And the architect finally went home to his children?” she whispered sleepily.

“Yes, darling,” Eames murmured back. “He went home to his children, and the thorns had all been torn down, and the wolves were gone. Mal was at peace. Arturiel no longer needed to protect him, and so he joined the Trickster and had many other adventures. Ariadne went home to her cave in the forest and was a very popular oracle for many years. The Lord of Dreams took over as Lord of the Underworld, but Bob wasn't unhappy. He moved on to other projects, and was quite content. Yusuf returned to his land with riches beyond imagining. And they all lived happy ever after.”

Now Phillipa really was asleep, snoring softly, and Eames gently drew the covers up to her chin. He carried James out of the room and put the sleeping boy in his own bed, tucking him in as well. Arthur shadowed him silently until they had both retired to the living room. They shared a glass of wine, passing it between them with the comfortable ease of long companionship. 

“It wasn't all true,” Arthur pointed out, looking pensive.

“It was true enough,” Eames said with a shrug. “What did you want? I was telling them a bedtime story.”

“You could have told them something different.”

“Ah, but they wanted a true story. Even if it wasn't all real.”

Arthur didn't argue with that, sipping his wine in silence. 

Eames sneezed.

“I knew it” Arthur sighed. “Now you're getting sick.”

“But you'll take care of me, won't you?” Eames snuffled into a tissue and gave Arthur a hopeful look with his watery eyes. 

“Of course. Who else would?”

Eames smiled. “My guardian angel.” Arthur slugged him on the shoulder, and Eames laughed. Then, they settled down on the couch together, the wine glass empty and forgotten, and sank into the warm embrace of a dreamless sleep.

 

The End


End file.
